


Patrick Stump//"dirty little whore"

by UnicornCooky



Series: Mommy!reader and sub!Patrick [4]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, Femdom, Lingerie, Mommy Kink, Name Calling, Sex Toys, Smut in general, Spanking, anal penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6860770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnicornCooky/pseuds/UnicornCooky





	Patrick Stump//"dirty little whore"

The day you brought it up, it had shocked him, to say the least.

After Patrick himself accepted that he wasn't going to get to have any control over you whatsoever, and getting out of denial that he was in fact a little (even if not to the extent that he wore diapers and drank from a bottle and carried around stuffies), you two had been trying many, many new things. Some of which included you buying him a leather collar with a tag on it that read his name, another, being one of your personal favorites, even buying him lingerie and having him touch himself in front of you. But this, to him, was a whole New extreme.

It started when Patrick was in the early stages of Soul Punk, he would parade around onstage, singing in that gorgeous, soulful voice of his, basically making you tremble. But, there were points in which Patrick would get a little, well...provocative. He would wiggle his hips, grind against his guitar, and on some occasions even moan into the microphone during songs in which he 'felt needed the touch'. To some that may not seem like much, but to you, it was the worst thing he could do at the time. Patrick was yours. Those perfect hips of his, those delicious moans, they were for you. And you didn't like sharing. And so, came that idea of yours.

Spankings.

The first time you brought it up you were both backstage, everyone was clearing out, and while nobody was looking, you walked up behind him. You grabbed his firm ass, leaned in to kiss his neck, and whispered: "If you keep acting like such a little slut onstage, mommy's gonna end up having to spank you, baby boy." Sure, there had been punishments for things similar to this and more in the past, but that was just cock rings, or you don't cum until mommy says so, nothing actually that bad. But this, this was actual punishment. He'd be bent over your knees, probably in garters and lacy panties if you had anything to do about it, and you'd be literally smacking him on the ass. Surprisingly enough, the thought made Patrick shiver. You'd nipped at his neck and patted his bum real quick before walking out the door along with others.

The second time, Patrick had done the same thing, this time allowing one of the members of the touring band to walk up to him and basically feel him up. You were pissed, of course, and grabbed his wrist as soon as he was offstage. "Baby boy, we've talked about this. What has mommy said about being such a slut, kitten? You're really pushing boundaries." Patrick whimpered, and used his free hand to toy with the shiny tag on his collar. "I-I'm sorry, m-mommy. I w-won't do it again, I promise." he looked up at you with those beautiful blue-green eyes of his and you almost melted, but held back. "You better not, because one more time and you're getting that fucking spanking, you dirty little whore."

The third time was the last straw. It was a show somewhere in Texas, you'd thought, and Patrick had had just a few drinks before his show. Only a few. Drunk Patrick was usually giggly and cute and sweet, but mix drunk Patrick and adrenaline-pumped-for-this-show Patrick, and you get something you would never see out of him otherwise. In this event, Patrick walked up to the guitarist for his touring band, and started feeling him up, and kissing at his neck, and even squeezing his crotch a couple times. Yes, it sounds like a very Gerard Way, Frank Iero thing to do, but that didn't stop him. He added onto that by squeezing his own crotch through his tight jeans and moaning obscenely into the microphone. You were seething sidestage, watching as he tugged on the loop of his collar every now-and-then and glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, which definitely read 'I'm so not getting away with this'. And, as expected, he didn't. When Patrick walked offstage you just sat on the dusty couch facing the door, arms crossed and a suspiciously neutral look on your face. By then a lot of his buzz had worn off and he'd realised what he'd done, but that didn't stop you from cutting him off when he tried to speak. "Go to the bus, put on your pink panties and the new garter belt I bought you. You better be ready by the time I get there." You gritted out, not averting your gaze from the wall. He whimpered at your cold tone but wasted no time in scurrying out of the building. You waited about ten minutes before you decided that was more than enough time and stood up. You walked out the door and the short distance from the venue to the bus, then bursted through the door to be met with the sight of Patrick waiting patiently on the couch. He was sitting there in the lacy pink panties and his black garters with the belt and bows at the tops just as you'd asked, also holding a gag and a silk scarf you'd usually used to tie back his hands in certain situations. He looked up at you, eyes wide and seemingly innocent as you drank in the image of him like this. His lemon-ish colored bleached hair fell into his face when he blushed and looked down. "Good boy, Tricky." You praised, going to sit down beside him. He looked up at you, and you cupped his cheek and kissed him softly. "Put in the gag and sit there for a minute, I'll be right back" You said after pulling away. You stood up and went over to your suitcase before he could reply, and was back in no time. Patrick was sitting with his legs crossed and he was looking at the door as if someone would walk in any second. You placed the object in your hand down onto the couch before he could see what it was and Sat back down beside him. "Come here baby, bend over my knee" Patrick nodded pathetically. He bent over your knees, waiting, and whining into the red gag when nothing came. You tutted. "Patience, baby boy. You'll get it, you can count on that" you grabbed the silk scarf, and instead of tying his wrists together, you tied it around his head as a blindfold. His noise of protest was swallowed by the gag. You waited longer, just to torture him, and you felt his body tense up when a low buzzing sounded throughout the small living area. You inched down his lacy panties with one hand, pressing the tip of the vibrator to his entrance before you pushed it into him all at once. You smirked at the muffled squeal you got from Patrick in return. You left it inside him for a minute before you smacked his ass, hard. 

Patrick essentially screamed at the sensation of the vibrator mixed with the stinging in his ass. 

You growled. "Count, slut" he nodded and gripped your leg as you popped the gag out of his mouth. You smacked his ass again. "T-Two!"  
"Three!"  
"Four! M-Mommy!"  
"F-Five!"  
"Six, o-oh my god, mommy!"  
"Seven! Holy smokes!"  
By around this time he'd already begun to rut against your leg, giving you a feel of his rock hard erection through your jeans. His mouth fell open wide and only a shrill squeak escaped when you did it three times more, all in a row with no time for him to process what you'd done. "Ah! T-Ten! Holy smokes, mommy!" You grinned triumphantly at the mess you'd made of him in such little time. He gasped as you grabbed the handle of the vibrator and started to thrust it in and out of him roughly. He wasn't prepped and there was no lube, and all Patrick really felt was the feeling of the smooth plastic rubbing against his walls painfully. He endured it, though, because for some reason that even he didn't know of, he was still moaning and squealing and begging for more. "God, yes, mommy! Holy smokes! Yesyesyed!" he grinded against your thigh as wanton noises of pleasure escaped his throat. It didn't take him long before he shot his load all over your jeans, a whimpering, sweaty mess that was that way just for you. His body went limp and you gently pulled the toy out of him and turned it off. You untied the scarf and helped him to lay down properly on the couch, before laying down beside him and snuggling into his chest. "Patrick?"  
"Hm?"  
"I love you"  
"I love you too, Y/N"

Next part is in the series >>>


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